We've got a meeting at two and it's almost one-thirty now.
"It's not a big deal," Carmen said, and launched into another subject.
It's always something, isn't it?
It's feminine enough, but it looks like something grandma would wear.
It's about time you spent some money on yourself.
It's so warm down here.
It's just a veterinary clinic.
"It's all wrong," said Zeb, gravely.
"Yes; but it's lots of fun, if it IS strange," remarked the small voice of the kitten, and Dorothy turned to find her pet walking in the air a foot or so away from the edge of the roof.
"It's good, anyway," said Zeb, "or those little rascals wouldn't have gobbled it up so greedily."
"I'll bet it's because they ate that peach!" cried the kitten.
It's the only way to get out of the Valley of Voe.
Why, it's Oz, the Wonderful Wizard, come back again!
"It's lucky we got here, though," said the boy; and Jim thought of the dark cave, and agreed with him.
"Oh, it's only some old robins!" said the second lawyer, whose name was Hardin.
It's only a penny whistle, and a poor one at that.
At last James Hogg said, "It's of no use; all we can do is to go home and tell the master that we have lost his whole flock."
It's the wolf, I'm sure!
It's the same old wolf that has been skulking around here all winter.
"It's only a picture of the baby, mother," he said.
The fishermen talked in low tones with one another for a little while, and then one said, It's a bargain.
Plus, it's all about to speed way, way up.
It's hard to know what later generations will deem to be art.
I call this "The Truth is Out There Problem": Even if you have an intellectual understanding that the truth is out there, if you cannot find it, it's as if it doesn't exist.
It's nice, isn't it?
It's wool and is a bit scratchy.
It's called a quadrillion.
In one sense, it's a peaceful world: The bully insists on the lunch money of the small kid, who has no recourse but to capitulate.
O but it's exceedingly interesting!
It's only fair to the child, anyhow, and it saves you much unnecessary trouble.
We had a glorious thunder-tempest last night, and it's much cooler to-day.
It's the queerest thing I ever saw--a little bundle of fagots fastened together in the middle.
It's easy enough, however, to say Helen is wonderful, because she really is.
It's Mr. Anagnos's property until it is published.
It's rather stupid business, I think.
"It's Baker's barn," cried one.
"It's not going to be a ghost story?" said he, sitting down beside the princess and hastily adjusting his lorgnette, as if without this instrument he could not begin to speak.
Choose what you will; it's all the same.
It's such an age...
"It's the saute, most likely," she added with a smile.
I suppose it's very interesting.
"It's all about the war," the count shouted down the table.
It's not pleasant, but what's to be done, my dear fellow?